“Because it is so hard, in any life, to believe in what you can’t fully understand.”

“So say I’m your mom.''What?' I said.'I’m your mom,' he repeated. 'Now tell me you want to quit modeling.'I could feel myself blushing. 'I can’t do that,' I said.'Why not?' he asked. 'Is it so hard to believe? You think I’m not a good role-player?''No,' I said. 'It’s just–''Because I am. Everyone wanted me to be their mother in group.'I just looked at him. 'I just… It’s weird.''No, it’s hard. But not impossible. Just try it.'A week earlier, I hadn’t even known what color his eyes were. Now, we were family. At least temporarily.”

“There was no short answer to this; like so much else, it was a long story. But what really makes any story real is knowing someone will hear it. And understand.”

“For once, you believed in yourself. You believed you were beautiful and so did the rest of the world.”

“It felt so weird, to be on the other side, where you were the one expected to offer condolences, not receive them. I wanted my "sorry" to sound genuine, because it was. That was the hard thing about grief, and the grieving. They spoke another language, and the words we knew always fell short of what we wanted to say.”

“Looking at her, I thought again how beautiful she was - even in jeans and a T-shirt, no makeup, she was breathtaking. So much so that it was hard to believe she could ever have looked at herself and seen anything else.”

“Then, a life was ending. Here, one was about to begin. I didn't believe in signs. But it was hard to ignore the fact that someone, somewhere, might have wanted me to go through this again and see there was another outcome.”